


Relief

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom!Martin, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Sort of panic attack, sub!Douglas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of a scene, Douglas suddenly gets overwhelmed. Luckily, he has Martin to care for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I had had this idea already, but I finally wrote it during the latest Creativity Night over on tumblr, when our prompt was 'postcard' and/or 'relieved'.

Martin is leaning over Douglas, his weight half-pinning him to the mattress as he straddles him. Martin’s eyes are half-lidded with desire, dark and promising, and Douglas thinks it has to be one of the most attractive things he’s ever seen. Martin tilts his head, a sort of predatory movement that has Douglas squirming a little where he lays, sprawled on top of the sheets, unable to move. His wrists have been pulled above his head, tied together, binding him to the headboard, and with Martin sitting on his lap, he can’t do more than shift his weight.

The room is getting hotter, the tension thick in the air, each second of anticipation that ticks by feeling like an eternity. Martin eyes him for a moment, before his lips curl into a smirk, and Douglas feels his blood rush south. Martin starts slowly, his hands splaying gently onto Douglas’ chest, almost absently rubbing the skin, before he slides them down, tracing the lines of his ribs, trailing down his stomach, and caressing the bump of his hipbones. Douglas shudders at the teasing touch, jerking slightly when Martin’s hands drag down the line of his hips to his crotch, before sliding out to his inner thighs. Douglas groans out Martin’s name, because that’s just so unfair, and he can practically feel Martin’s grin in response.

With a shift of his weight, Martin is on top of him, chest to chest, and he makes good use of his new position to let his mouth do the work. Martin bites down on Douglas’ skin, only hard enough to mark it, leaving love bites at his collarbones and the top of his chest. His hips are making small movements, grinding and thrusting against Douglas’ own, and the steady throbbing pulse of arousal is getting more prominent. Martin leans up to kiss him, deep and hungry, and Douglas responds eagerly, savoring the moment. They break apart for air, panting, but stay only a breath apart, and Martin whispers Douglas’ name into the space between them. Douglas feels the effect _that_ has on him, and with one of Martin’s hands tugging at his hair, Douglas arches his back, his body climbing towards release.

Martin’s mouth is on the curve between his shoulder and his neck, he can feel nails digging into his side, and their hips are rolling together, sparks of pleasure alighting with every point of contact. Douglas relishes the sensations, starts to lose himself in the heady ecstasy of it all, when something in him shifts. Suddenly everything is too hot, too powerful, too _much_. Where he had been rising before, he’s falling, crashing. His breath, already quickened, starts to come in short gasps, bordering on hyperventilating, and something like panic wells into his chest. Douglas has no idea where this came from, and to his horror, he can feel his eyes welling up with tears. He makes a quiet choking sound, and suddenly Martin is there. Face leaning close, brows furrowed in concern, he cups Douglas’ jaw with one hand. Douglas anchors himself with Martin’s touch, tries to bring himself back under control, but he can barely hear over the pounding in his ears.

Abruptly he finds himself released, arms no longer pulled taut, and he yanks his hands down to cover his face. Martin is still there, a warm presence, and his arms are around Douglas, pulling him up and letting him curl into Martin’s chest, rubbing circles on his back. They ride out the wave of emotion together, and it takes a minute or two for Douglas to register that Martin has been talking this whole time, murmuring soothingly into his ear, gentle reassurances littered with worry. It takes him longer than he likes to recover himself, carefully sitting up on his own and avoiding Martin’s eyes. Douglas drags one hand down his face, resolutely staring at the bed beneath him, even as he feels Martin watching him.

“Douglas?”

Douglas twitches at the sound of his name, but doesn’t move. He hears Martin release a sigh, and feels the bed shift as he moves.

“Hey.”

There’s a hand under his chin and he’s suddenly face-to-face with Martin.

“Are you okay?”

Douglas clenches his jaw, embarrassment flushing his cheeks a faint red.

“…fine. I’m fine, I don’t-”

Douglas cuts himself off with a noisy exhale, unable to articulate what exactly had overcome him. It’s frustrating and frightening all at once, and he makes a vague gesture with his hand, hoping Martin might understand at least some of what he means. There’s a heavy pause, and Douglas risks a glance at Martin, finding his partner’s eyes softened in a way they hadn’t been mere minutes ago.

“Do you want to stop or keep going?”

Martin asks, his voice even and neutral, not pushing either choice. Douglas swallows heavily, taking several minutes to steel himself, unwilling to admit out loud that he wants to stop. Martin waits patiently the whole time, and it’s this show of openness that pushes Douglas into action. He takes a breath.

“…stop.”

Douglas darts his gaze away, even as he catches the accepting nod from Martin. He sits on the bed, thoughts racing, as Martin moves around him and the room, cleaning up and tugging the last of the restraints from his wrists. Douglas has always prioritized his lovers over himself, wanting to make sure they were always satisfied and he was worried now that he hadn’t managed that. Surely Martin would be disappointed or annoyed or frustrated that Douglas couldn’t even handle his own emotions. It was just…this whole dynamic they had was fairly new to Douglas and sometimes it left a bigger impact than he anticipated. For once, Martin had the experience and knowledge and assurance, and it left Douglas struggling in his desire to please his partner.

It was with a jolt of awareness that Douglas realized he had somehow ended up on the couch. He blinked, wondering how he had missed that. It was as he was wondering where the pajama pants had also come from, that he felt the soft touch of a blanket draping over his shoulders. This had him craning his head back to look quizzically at Martin, now stood behind the couch. Martin only smiled, looking amused.

“You’re thinking too hard, Douglas.”

Douglas opened his mouth to reply, wanting to return some witty comment like usual, but instead,

“I’m sorry.”

The words rushed out, all the troubling thoughts bubbling in his mind making their way out of his mouth as one small sentence. Martin looked surprised.

“Why on earth are you apologizing?”

“For stopping, I-”

“Douglas.”

Martin’s voice was warm but firm, and Douglas felt his jaw closing in response.

“Don’t ever apologize for that. I don’t want to do anything you don’t, and I’m perfectly happy going with what you want. It doesn’t matter to me what we end up doing, so long as we’re together, alright?”

Douglas couldn’t respond if he wanted to, too stunned to do more than stare. Martin shook his head fondly, some sort of understanding in his eyes, and swept away to the kitchen. Douglas watched him go, mind churning through what Martin had said. God, he couldn’t remember ever having a partner who was so…accommodating? Understanding? It was…nice. It was really nice, and Douglas let himself finally relax into the couch cushions, tugging the one fallen end of the blanket back over his shoulder.

Martin re-entered, two steaming plates of hot food in his hands. He handed one to Douglas, before settling himself on the couch as well, letting their thighs press together. Douglas picked up his fork and tried a bite, tasting the curry-like dish. It was rich and juicy, just enough spice to be flavorful without being overpowering, and paired with fluffy white rice tinged with something sweet. Huh. Who knew all Martin needed was a decently-stocked kitchen to be a good cook.

The TV is playing a movie Martin put in, and Douglas perks up as the opening chords of ‘Seasons of Love’ starts playing, RENT being a favorite of his. Martin curls closer, cuddling into his side, and looking just as content as after good sex, and Douglas finds himself so utterly relieved. He’s curled up on his couch, warm beneath a blanket, delicious food in hand, a great movie playing, and he has, burrowing into his side, someone who loves him more than anything, who won’t take without giving, and who’s perfectly happy just being in his presence. Douglas is so stupidly thankful for all that he has now, wondering how on earth he managed to gain all this. He’s always been lucky, but this is ridiculous.


End file.
